What I Thought Life Was
by Edge of 23
Summary: A brief telephone encounter between Charles and Erik. Post-Days Of Future Past. Drabblish. Inspired by and incorporates the poem "Alas! This Is Not What I Thought Life Was" by Percy Bysshe Shelley.


Charles wakes to the loud, shrill ringing of the phone.

It's that hideous, puke-green rotary dial at his bedside, the one he is now convinced he must have bought when he was completely off his rocker. _Perhaps during one of his rare highs from McCoy's serum?_ Though few and far between, such frenetic energy when it comes allows him to get things done, rather than lie in bed and mope all day, every day.

Still, as he groggily reaches out to pick up the phone handle, Charles concludes that he would by far rather be bed-bound and immobile than high-strung and buying hideous things.

He makes a mental note to throw the darn thing out, or at least have it moved out of his bedroom, even as he puts on an air of false cheeriness: "Hullo, this is the Xavier residence. . ."

"Good morning, Charles. I hope I didn't wake you too early."

Charles sits upright, his back stern and stiff as a post. The shallow façade falls from his voice.

"_Erik?_ Good Lord, it is you! Where are you?"

On the other end, Charles hears a sudden harsh burst of air. He is cold, maybe, or perhaps something dreadful has happened, and he is in pain . . . but no, it is late May, summer is just round the corner, and when last he saw Erik yesterday, he was hale and hearty.

"My legs hurt," Charles stammers suddenly, not sure what else to say. "But then, you knew that already. I'm coming off the serum, and regaining full use of my ability."

"I am sorry to hear that, Charles. Take care of yourself, hear? I imagine having piles of stadium debris falling on you hasn't made it any easier. I apologize, Charles. Truly."

"You truly apologize? As opposed to what, doing it half-arsed? I don't quite know how to take this coming from you, Erik." Charles' heart twinges as he hears Erik's sharp intake of breath.

"That's not fair, Charles, and you _know_ it. I would never hurt you."

"Wouldn't you? What do you call leaving me again at the first sign of trouble? 10 years, Erik; 10 bloody years I had to live without you. I get you for less than a week, and how long will you be gone this time, another decade?"

_Alas! this is not what I thought life was.__  
__I knew that there were crimes and evil men,__  
__Misery and hate; nor did I hope to pass__  
__Untouched by suffering, through the rugged glen._

"No. I will not stay away that long; I have to be near you. Why are you so angry with me? You are the one who allowed me to escape, remember?"

"Don't you dare try to pull that! You know it wasn't that simple. I was in no condition to stop you."

"Then why didn't you allow the others to take me?"

"Erik, do you hear yourself? You know they would have killed you! I will not let that happen: you are a misguided fool, to be sure, but you are still precious to me. You can be redeemed."

_In mine own heart I saw as in a glass__  
__The hearts of others …_

"Do you hear yourself, Charles? You sound just like all those charlatans on the telly, selling religion or politics to the masses. You don't really believe that stuff."

"Yes, Erik, _I do!"_ Charles swallows the lump forming in his throat and suppresses the tears that well up in his eyes. "No one is beyond redemption, none. I hope that you especially will be saved."

"Saved from _what_, Charles?"

"From your bitterness, Erik, from all the hatred that has clouded your mind and taken root in your heart."

"You are in denial, Charles! After all these years you still cling so desperately to the notion that we mutants and humans can coexist peacefully. I have seen too much, and I know what becomes of this situation: this 'us' versus 'them.' Our only hope is to take charge, and to do it _now_."

"Erik, no! Please listen to me. You don't have to live like this — come over. I need to see you."

"Alright, Charles. I will see you shortly."

_... And when__  
__I went among my kind, with triple brass__  
__Of calm endurance my weak breast I armed,__  
__To bear scorn, fear, and hate, a woful mass!_

Erik hangs up, and it is only then that Charles realizes that he never answered his question.


End file.
